House of Cards
by RobinL
Summary: Angsty oneshot from Joe's POV.


**Title**: House of Cards

**Author**: Robin

**Disclaimer**: I do not own these characters, nor their fictional world. I derive no monetary gain from their use.

**A/N**: This story is from Joe's POV. Angsty introspection.

**Rating**: R

I watched her as she drew in slow even breaths, every exhale fluttering against my bare skin where her cheek was pillowed on my chest. Guys in my family weren't known for their tenderness. For romance. The feelings that welled up from simply holding her were completely foreign to a guy like me. Passion, lust, rage, possessiveness were natural to an Italian boy from Trenton. Tenderness wasn't normally in the mix.

But when I held her, watching her sleep in my arms, it was the only time I let those softer emotions surface. I wanted to protect her, to cherish her, to shield her because any harm done to her was done to me. She was that integral to my being.

My arms tightened reflexively around her and she stirred, nuzzling closer, her body entwined with mine. It was heaven and hell all at once having her so close. Heaven for obvious reasons: she was naked, I was naked, you do the math. Hell because if I woke her up to make love again, she'd be cranky. So I was going to have to suffer. She was a passionate woman, but even she had her limits. For me, I couldn't get enough of her, except when she was off of sugar – then I had a hard time keeping up.

She amazed me and terrified me and I wished I could put her in a glass jar like a captured butterfly. But I knew better. She'd never survive it.

Still I didn't know how else to be a man in love. I didn't know what else to expect of the woman I'd die for.

There were certain expectations a man like me had about his future wife. First that it wouldn't be an impossible task to convince her to become my wife. Second that she'd at least give the appearance of paying attention to what I wanted – like for her to avoid getting into mess after mess. And third that she'd be loyal.

And this is where my heart broke. Because I knew she'd crossed the line with Ranger. I'd never seen anything, exactly, but more it was a look on her face when he was mentioned, a softness in her eyes. And when they were together, there were currents between them that you could almost reach out and touch.

Everything shifted into focus the night Scrog shot Ranger. I'd known Ranger had his eye on her. He was a hunter; it was just who he was. But, that night I saw that there were feelings there between them. Maybe not acknowledged, but they were there. Witnessing her reaction was like a pin prick to my protective bubble. She loved him, I'd seen it.

I guess a lot of men would have walked away at that. It was a major ego blow to admit the woman you'd jump in front of a bus for would jump in front of a bullet for another man. I wanted to hurl accusations, to make demands, to issue ultimatums. But I held myself in check. As much as I wanted to put distance between Stephanie and Ranger, physically and emotionally, I knew that if I spoke one word against him it would only drive them closer together. As it was, I could barely drag her away from his bedside long enough to eat during those long hours of waiting.

On the surface, things went back to normal after Ranger recovered, or as normal as they got when Stephanie was involved. In reality everything had changed.

Things which had seemed perfectly innocent in the past, made me wonder now. I was constantly worrying if Stephanie was telling me the truth. Was she really out with Mary Lou? Was that message from Ranger just about a job? Was Stephanie just bounty hunting as an excuse to spend time with him? It was driving me nuts and making me paranoid.

I couldn't go back to pretending that there was nothing between them. I tried. Really. Sometimes I could almost convince myself that I'd imagined the connection between the two of them. Almost. But then I'd remember the shattered expression on her face when she thought that Ranger was dying and all of my illusions would dissolve.

A few times I'd considered confronting Stephanie about it, but I was afraid. Afraid I'd drive her right into his arms if I did. If they didn't know what was going on between them, I sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to play matchmaker.

But I think she knew. Maybe she only figured it out when I did, or maybe she'd known all along, but I think she knew. And so I waited to see what she would do about it.

I was a man on edge. Constantly waiting for the moment she would walk away. For the words, "We need to talk," to start off a conversation. I felt like a criminal who was biding his time, trying to enjoy the spoils of his crime knowing that one day everything would catch up with him and he'd be busted, losing it all. Days, weeks, months passed and nothing happened. I started buying Maalox by the case because I had an ulcer from the stress. For all of my paranoia, I knew that Stephanie wasn't secretly meeting Ranger on the side. But still, I had this sense that I was living on borrowed time. Everything I had with Stephanie was as substantial as a house of cards and one day it would all come crashing down.

And so I soaked up the quiet moments like this, memorizing the texture of her soft skin under my fingers and savoring the sweet fragrance of her shampoo. If today was the last day I had with her, I was going to make every moment count.

She shifted in my arms again and I stilled the hand that had been gently gliding along the length of her back. She yawned and sighed and with a flutter, her eyes opened, blinking owlishly in the muted glow of the moonlight through the curtains. She smiled softly and breathed, "Hey, you."

"Hey, you, too," I said, my voice gravelly from disuse. I stared at her in the dim light, studying the familiar lines of her face, the arc of her eyebrow, the slope of her nose, the curve of her lips.

"What are you doing awake? Is everything okay?" she asked quietly.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as well as the truth and answered, "Everything's fine. Just couldn't sleep." I started moving my hand again, caressing the silky skin of her back, playing with the ridges of her spine. I slid my hand up to skim the swell of her breast.

"Mmm," she murmured in approval, shivering against my chest, pressing her lips to the side of my neck. She shifted so that she straddled me and without words I came into her knowing exactly what she wanted and needed. Slowly we made love in the dark of the night, our movements languid and unhurried.

Stephanie's eyes slid closed and I wondered if she ever pictured him in her mind while I was making love to her. The thought instantly made me go soft inside of her and I stilled, mentally cursing myself. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why the fuck did I have to go there? I struggled to keep my frustration from showing. Christ, this had never happened before.

"What's the matter, Joe?" Stephanie asked, her eyes flying open, searching mine for answers.

I was relieved that my name slipped so easily from her lips and I leaned up to capture them for a deep kiss. When I pulled back I said, "Nothing, Cupcake. I just needed to taste you." I flipped us over and kissed my way down her belly until I settled between her legs. After all of this time I knew that this was her favorite thing and I did my best to use it to distract her from what had happened a moment ago. I applied myself with a skill I'd been honing since I was fourteen years old and before long, she came apart beneath me, moaning my name and asking me for mercy. I knew without a doubt that there had been no room for Ranger in her mind right then. That was a kind of satisfaction in itself.

I moved back to her side and pulled her into my arms as she calmed down, soothing her with gentle strokes. When she moved to return the favor, I tightened my embrace, holding her to me. We'd always had a very "I'll scratch your back, if you'll scratch mine" kind of relationship, but I just couldn't regain the mood tonight. Of course I couldn't tell her that. Instead I said, "Sleep now, Cupcake. There's always tomorrow."

I cuddled her into me and waited for her breathing to even out and sleep to take her before I closed my eyes. There's always tomorrow, I thought to myself as I drifted to sleep. I hoped that was true.


End file.
